Kidney
by J0
Summary: She moved out of the warm curve of Elliot’s body to exchange her baggie for the one on the table.  She made a face and said, “Captain, if I had seen this when I was in here before, I could have solved this case for you then.  Let me show you.”
1. Changes

**Author's Note:** This is for iqtwo over at TV . com, but I hope the rest of you enjoy it, too.

**Disclaimer:** SVU is not mine. No profit is being made from this story. Please review.

**Kidney**

_Chapter One_

_Changes_

SVU Squad Room

January 17, 1:34 P.M.

Olivia placed the sandwich in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator and smiled. She knew what her partner liked, and when he was ready to eat, he would find it very satisfying. She'd written his name on it so people would know it was for him, and she had drawn a goofy little smiley face on it to give him a laugh.

God, how she loved the sound of his laugh! She wished she could hear it more often, but because of the nature of their job, she knew that would never happen. Sometimes she really envied his wife and kids. He let his guard down around them, let them hear him laugh and see him smile.

She got two bottles of water from the stockpile she kept in the refrigerator, and deliberately turned away from her melancholy thoughts as she exited the break room. Captain Cragen and Fin were coming toward her, but they were deep in discussion about the stakeout Fin and Elliot had worked last night, so she just greeted them with a nod and a smile.

She saw her partner coming from the direction of the crib, so, instead of going straight to her desk, she walked over to greet him.

"Well if it isn't sleeping beauty!" she teased.

He smirked at her and then smacked his dry lips in an effort to get rid of the cottonmouth feeling he always had when he woke up. He accepted the bottled water she offered him and took a long swallow. They crossed the room side by side, so close not a breath could pass between them. She could feel the heat radiating off his body and wondered if Kathy knew how lucky she was to sleep next to his warm, solid mass, at least when he wasn't working all night.

Olivia had to work hard to suppress a chuckle as they settled into their facing desks. With that dopey look on his face and his beautiful blue eyes peeking out from half-closed lids, all he needed was a blanket and a teddy bear, and maybe a pair of pajamas, to complete the image of a sleepy-headed little boy at bedtime. Again she felt a twinge of jealousy. Kathy got to see that face every morning.

"Did the nap help?" she asked.

"Ohhhh, some," Elliot yawned as he stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "But what I really need is to get off these damned swing shifts."

"Tell me about it," Olivia said, her big, chocolate brown eyes melting in sympathy as she gave him a compassionate look. "They really mess with your sleep-wake cycle. I brought you a sandwich whenever you're ready for it. It's in the bottom left drawer of the 'fridge, roast beef, American cheese, and spicy brown mustard on whole wheat."

"I think I love you," Elliot smirked. "Thanks."

Olivia warmed at his comment.

"You're welcome, but don't tell Kathy I know what you like," she winked playfully and spoke in a seductive tone.

They always told themselves their mock flirtation was all for the benefit of the creepy new guy, Chester Lake, who was just walking by their desks, chewing on the handle of a plastic spoon and carrying a steaming bowl of something for his lunch. They hadn't given his joining the unit a second thought because, quite frankly, they needed the help; but then Munch had gone on a paranoid rant about him spying on them for IAB. Now they all viewed him with a certain amount of suspicion and Olivia and Elliot particularly delighted in making sure he overheard lots of comments that were open to various interpretations.

Olivia shuddered when Lake was past them, and Elliot noticed. "What?" he asked her.

"That's just disgusting," she said quietly with another shiver of revulsion.

"What?"

"He has to be chewing on something all the time," she said.

Elliot grinned.

"What?" Olivia asked now.

Elliot looked very full of himself. "I chew on stuff and you've never said it was disgusting."

She blushed slightly and gave him a rueful smile. "Well, you're special."

Elliot laughed, and then, even though Lake wasn't close enough to hear, he said, "I really do love you, Olivia."

The truth was, Elliot _really did_ love Olivia, in a big brother sort of way, he always insisted, and Olivia really did know what he liked. She knew what he liked to eat and drink, his favorite color, the shows he TiVoed, his football and basketball heroes. Everything and anything a best friend should know about him. She'd even bought him Tool's _10,000 Days _CD and a band T-shirt for Christmas last year. By the same token, he knew her favorite wine, her preferred brand of chocolates, the books she liked to read, and the perfume she wore. She'd also told him the story behind that little rectangular necklace she never took off.

So, neither of them could understand why Cragen had been splitting them up recently. There had been a lot of changes thrust upon the squad in the weeks following Darius Parker's trial, including closer supervision from the brass, an obsessive demand for up-to-date paperwork, and ongoing psychological evaluations for all of them; but by far the most embarrassing and degrading change was separating Benson and Stabler like a couple of errant school children. At least Elliot got to work with Fin, who was cool, and Munch, who was as funny as he was annoying. Poor Olivia was usually stuck with the creepy, too-silent Chester Lake. The only thing keeping them sane was the fact that Cragen had let them keep their usual desks.

"Anything new on the Mendoza case?" Olivia asked as she got up to put some folders in the file cabinet behind her desk.

Isabella Quintana-Mendoza was a fourteen-year-old classmate of Elliot's daughter Elizabeth who was dating a twenty-two-year-old college senior. The age difference prompted Elizabeth to warn her friend that her boyfriend could be arrested for statutory rape, and IQ, as the girl liked to be called, responded that he wasn't doing anything her brother hadn't already tried. Elizabeth, who was not nearly so naïve as her father would like her to be, understood immediately what the girl was implying. It took Liz two weeks to convince her friend that the police could do something to stop the abuse, and two days ago she had cut school to ride into Manhattan with IQ because she would only talk to "Lizzie's dad" about it.

Elliot shook his head. "Fin and I staked out the boyfriend's house last night, but she didn't show up. I have a bad feeling that she didn't run. I think someone did something to her. And she prefers to be called Quintana, remember?"

"That's right. Sorry," Olivia apologized as she flipped through the folders in the cabinet looking for the ones she wanted. She knew Elliot was taking this case more personally than most because one of his children had brought it to his attention. If the system failed IQ, Elliot would feel like he had failed Elizabeth, and he needed so badly to be a hero in his daughter's eyes. "Any idea who got to her?"

"Well, her brother molested her for seven years, her wife-beating father covered it up, and she disappeared less than twenty-four hours after some idiot judge gave them bail," he reminded her. "I think it's a safe bet at least one of them had something to do with it."

With her folders in one arm, Olivia came around the desk and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. With as much conviction as she could muster, she said, "You'll find her, El."

Elliot looked up at her gratefully. She smiled down him and patted his shoulder before returning to her seat. He sighed and nodded. "I sure as hell hope so. Where's Fin?"

"In the break room, briefing the Captain on your stakeout, I guess," she said. "At least that's where they seemed to be headed when I last saw them."

"Stabler! Get your ass over here NOW!" Captain Cragen roared from the vicinity of the interrogation rooms, which were between his office and the break room.

The volume and anger in the Captain's voice caused Elliot to jump. He exchanged a _What did I do this time?_ look with Olivia, and, receiving a shrug and concerned look from her big, brown eyes, he walked as quickly as he could to where Cragen was waiting for him. Without preamble, Cragen grabbed him by the back of his collar and his elbow and shoved him into the door of the interrogation room. It was slightly open, so he wasn't hurt when he ran into it, but being slammed up against it was still jarring enough to rattle his teeth in his head. He stumbled into the room, and a furious Cragen shoved him again.

"Get in there and sit down!" the captain bellowed, pointing towards a chair.

Elliot was too stunned for anything but meek obedience. He entered the room and sat…in the suspect's chair facing the mirror.


	2. Interrogation

**Disclaimer:** SVU is not mine. No profit is being made from this story. Review, please.

**Kidney**

_Chapter Two_

_Interrogation_

SVU Squad Room

January 17, 1:42 P.M.

"_You_ took her, didn't you, Elliot?" Don accused venomously, leaning across the table to get in the detective's face. A fine mist of spittle hit Elliot's cheeks and forehead when he yelled.

"What? Who? Isabella Quintana? No! Captain, how could you say that?" Elliot cringed at the weepy sound in his voice. He was on the verge of a panic attack already. He had never seen his captain so angry, and he still wasn't really sure what he was being accused of. The only thing that made sense was the disappearance of his daughter's friend, and to think he was being blamed for that just about killed him. He would _never_ hurt a child, and he couldn't believe anyone who knew him would suggest such a thing. He was sure Munch would have something to say about stepping into a Kafka novel, but Munch wasn't here. He had taken the afternoon off to see his phrenologist.

Don inched even closer, until his hot breath was on Elliot's face. In a voice of barely restrained fury, he said, "If you don't come clean with me now, Detective, IAB will be the least of your problems."

Elliot held his captain's gaze as long as he could, determined to defend himself in the face of this unwarranted attack, but such was the ferocity of Don's glare that he finally had to hang his head and lower his eyes. Satisfied that his subordinate was submitting now, Don took a step back.

"I-I didn't do anything to that child," Elliot stammered at his hands as he lifted them out of his lap and pressed them to the tabletop to keep them from shaking. "I don't understand why . . ."

"I'm not talking about the girl," the captain said in clipped tones.

Elliot's head snapped up, and he recognized the captain's posture well: sleeves rolled up like a man about to join a brawl, chest puffed out, arms folded, feet shoulder width apart, looming over him and looking down on him with that disdainful stare. He couldn't count the number of times he had consciously used the same body language to intimidate a suspect. He had never really understood until now just how effective it was.

"Th-then what are you talking about, Cap, because I really have no idea."

"Yes, you do, Elliot, I'm sure you do," Cragen said in a cordial tone that was even more unnerving than the shouting because Elliot knew it hid a barely restrained rage. "Just . . . think about it for a minute or two. It will all come back to you. I'm sure it will. Then we can make a deal, but I can't help you unless you remember."

Elliot wracked his brain, mentally filing through all of his cases, even the cold ones, even his colleagues' cold ones, trying figure out what his captain wanted him to remember. He came up empty. IQ was currently the only missing child case on their radar.

Swallowing hard, dreading the fallout, he looked up to his boss again and said, "Cap, I'm sorry, I don't . . ."

Olivia sat at her desk for nearly five minutes trying to decide what to do. Nothing in her experience in the SVU could have prepared her for what she had just witnessed. She never would have imagined that Cragen could get so angry.

Or that he could and would manhandle Elliot the way he had.

Or that Elliot would take it.

But then, she had seen the look in Elliot's soulful blue eyes in that fraction of a second before Cragen had shoved him into the interrogation room. He was startled, completely perplexed.

And hurt.

Everyone knew Elliot looked up to Cragen as sort of a mentor or an admired colleague, but only she knew from bits and pieces of conversation he had let slip over the years that he really looked up to Don as a father figure. She wasn't sure exactly when she had figured it out, but she knew Elliot's father had been, at the very least, emotionally abusive. Judging from the way he unleashed his fists when his temper got the best of him, the old man had probably knocked him around more than once, too. So, to have Don, the man who had taken the place of a loving, concerned father in Elliot's mind, shove him around the way he had must be absolutely devastating.

She had to _do _something.

She looked over at Chester Lake and snorted derisively to herself. He would be no help. He was just sitting there, reading a file and blithely slurping down his soup as if everything was business as usual. Of course, after Darius Parker's trial, maybe he thought this _was_ business as usual in the SVU.

To hell with him.

First she needed to know what was going on. Only then could she figure out how to rescue her partner. She got up and crossed the room to the short hallway that led to interrogation and observation. She found Fin watching through the two-way mirror as Cragen worked Elliot like a perp. The very thought of it made her nauseous.

She watched the intense grilling for a moment, and her heart felt tight in her chest when she saw just how bewildered and frightened her partner was. His posture suggested he was bracing for a beating, and finally she had the last piece of the puzzle to his character. His dad had hit him, often, and this sudden attack from the captain had to feel like a complete betrayal. Elliot could be good at hiding his emotions, at least the softer ones, the ones men thought made them look weak, but she knew him well, and she could tell that he was fighting tears right now.

She watched the questioning a moment longer, but she couldn't glean enough from Cragen's questions to figure out what Elliot was suspected of, so finally, she had to ask Fin.

"So, what the hell's going on?" she tried to ask casually. After all, if the captain had wanted her involved, he would have called her over, too.

Fin explained the situation and at first all Olivia could do was blink in confusion. Then she tore her gaze from the scene in the other room to look at her fellow detective beside her behind the glass.

"Do _you_ think he did it?" she asked.

The question obviously made Fin uncomfortable. "I don't . . . The thing is . . ." He rubbed his hand over his mouth, took a deep breath and said, "Look, Liv, he didn't have _much_ time to do it before I got backbut he did have _enough _time. And there is some evidence that he was at the scene. I . . . I really don't know what to think."

Olivia's jaw dropped. She felt the sting of tears as they flooded her eyes and she went hot and then cold all over. Her throat closed up and it became hard to breathe. A slap in the face could not have stunned her or hurt her more than this betrayal of her partner.

"I can't believe you said that," she gasped in a husky voice and then sniffed.

A commotion from the interrogation room drew her attention back to the scene on the other side of the glass, and then she was running from the observation room to aid her partner.

"DO NOT . . . LIE . . . TO ME!"

Don surged forward so suddenly Elliot fell off his chair trying to back away.

The captain hovered over him, haranguing him, his face almost touching the side of Elliot's head as he yelled in his ear. "You did it! I know you did it! You can't deny it! Don't freaking lie to me! What are you, stupid? You can't fool me!"

The yelling, confusion, and fear became too much for him, and suddenly Elliot was ten years old again. His father had just slapped him out of his chair for complaining about the broccoli on his plate, and he knew what was coming next. From where he cowered on the floor, he could see his father's hands unbuckling his braided leather belt, the one that left the crisscross pattern on his skin. It hurt even worse than the buckle end of the black calfskin belt he had given his dad for Father's Day two years ago.

Elliot drew himself up into a tight ball, pressed his face against his knees and covered his head with his arms. This time he would take it like a man. He wouldn't try to run. He wouldn't even flinch, and he _absolutely would __**not**__ cry._ That only made it worse.

He heard the _whoosh_ of the leather flying through the air, and lost all resolve. Before it could strike him, he crawled under the table and desperately pleaded, "Please, Daddy, don't hit me!"

Olivia opened the door to the interrogation room so quickly it moved the air with a _whoosh_, and she heard her partner cry out from under the table, "Please, Daddy, don't hit me!"

"Captain!" she shouted.

For a moment, everything froze and the only sound in the room was Elliot sobbing quietly. Then Cragen opened his fist and let his hand fall to his side. He hadn't struck his detective, yet, but he had drawn back to swing. He almost couldn't believe what he had done. There was no doubt in his mind that Elliot was responsible for the heinous act; all the evidence pointed to him. Don sincerely wanted to help his detective out of the jam he was in, but he needed a confession before he could do anything. He knew violence and intimidation weren't the way to go, but the betrayal was still so painful, so raw, that Don almost couldn't help himself.

Elliot peeked out from under the table with a tearstained face. He seemed more confused than before, like he didn't even recognize where he was at first. It took him a few moments to put his brave façade back in place, but Olivia still saw the abject terror in his eyes. Finally, she spoke.

"You need to take a step back, Captain," she said softly.

Cragen did physically move back just a little, but he kept Elliot pinned with his stare.

"And you need to step out, Detective," he commanded gravely.

"I really don't think . . ." she began, but Don cut her off.

"You can leave this room on your own, or you can leave my precinct under guard," Cragen ground out. "The choice is yours, Detective."

Olivia didn't argue, but she didn't obey immediately either. Instead, she held her partner's gaze and waited for him to tell her what to do. She could see him weighing his options as he thought. She could also see the pain, shame, and fear that lurked behind his blue orbs. Finally, she saw Elliot's head tilt almost imperceptibly toward the door.

The message was subtle, but for her, he may as well have been shouting it. _Do as he says._

She hiked her brows at him. _Are you sure?_

He drew his eyebrows together slightly, squinted the tiniest bit, and just barely nodded toward the door again. He was certain. _Go. Get out of here now. You can't help me if he fires you. Go out there and figure out what is going on, then __**rescue**__ me._

"Now, Detective Benson," Cragen growled.

She gave her partner the faintest of nods. _Hang in there. I'll help you, I promise, no matter what._

"Yes, sir," she breathed, and she left the room shutting the door behind her.


	3. Evidence

**Disclaimer:** SVU is not mine. No profit is being made from this story. Review, please.

**Kidney**

_Chapter Three_

_Evidence_

SVU Squad Room

January 17, 1:58 P.M.

Elliot flinched away when Don offered his hand to help him up, and Don felt something in his heart twist. "Come on," he said gently. "It's ok."

Elliot took a deep, shaky breath and accepted the offer of assistance. He got to his feet and plopped into his chair because his knees were still shaking. Don moved across the room and leaned against the mirror facing him.

"Would you like a drink of water?"

"Uh, yeah, please," Elliot replied.

"Ok. I'll be right back," Don said and left the room. While he was gone, Elliot tried to regain some of his composure. He hadn't flashed back to his dad's abuse since he'd beat the living hell out of Pete Breslin and started going to counseling with Rebecca Hendrix. He just hoped that when this was over, nobody asked him about what he said when he was hiding under the table. He really didn't want anyone to know. He was still too ashamed of it all.

Don returned a moment later with a bottle of cold water and a foam cup. He twisted the cap off and poured some water into the cup for Elliot. Then he set both cup and bottle on the table in front of him and again moved to stand against the mirror. Elliot picked up the cup in a shaking hand and drank it all in one go. He hadn't realized how dry his mouth and throat had gone until he had something to drink. When he finished, he carefully placed the cup on the table, and then clasped his hands around the bottle, mostly to keep them from shaking.

Don waited a moment more to see what he would do next, but when he didn't look up at him, he started talking anyway.

"Elliot, I know we've been working together a long time, but more importantly, we've been friends," he began compassionately. "I want to help you with this . . . situation . . . you've created for yourself, but I can't do that until you own up to what you've done."

Elliot had to clasp his hands more tightly around the water bottle to keep himself from banging his fists on the table in frustration. The plastic crackled and complained under his grip.

"_What_ situation, Cap?" he asked in a strained voice. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Don gave an exasperated sigh, but his anger was already spent. "You sure you want to stick with that story?"

"It's not a story," Elliot insisted almost desperately. "I didn't _do_ anything."

Don moved closer to the table and Elliot watched him warily. He pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and dropped it on the table and then moved back to the mirror. Elliot didn't touch the bag, but leaned forward to peer at its contents distastefully. It was a cheap, black ballpoint pen, the kind they all got out of the supply closet. The chewed up cap was still wet and slimy with saliva.

"What is that?" he asked in disgust.

"Proof that you were at the scene," Don told him.

"The scene of what?"

Ignoring his question, Don asked, "Where were you between a quarter after and half past one this afternoon?"

Elliot frowned. "This after . . . Cap, that doesn't make sense! Isabella disappeared last night."

"For the last time, this is not about the Quintana girl, Detective," Don said in a dangerous tone that Elliot knew better than to challenge. The "Detective" on the end of the sentence was like a slap in the face.

Elliot shrugged. "Between quarter after and half past one? That was the beginning of my lunch hour. I was still beat from the stakeout last night, so I went into the crib for a nap. Olivia went out for lunch and brought me back a sandwich."

"Anybody see you in there?"

"I wouldn't know. I was asleep!" Elliot snapped in irritation. "Ask Liv. She saw me go in and she saw me come out!"

Don shook his head. "Not good enough. She was gone for an hour and couldn't say she actually saw you _there_, and besides, with the crap you two have been covering up for each other lately, I wouldn't trust her word in your defense."

Elliot's mouth dropped open in shock. Yeah, they'd screwed up lately, but if either of them had actually done something wrong, the other would have been the first to call them on it. There was no way in hell Olivia would lie for him if he was guilty of something, and Don should know that.

Still, telling off his captain wasn't the thing to do right now, so he swallowed his angry words and said, "Then ask Fin. He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?"

Cragen nodded. "Yeah, but he was briefing me on your stakeout. You have no alibi, Elliot. You were the only one with motive, means, and opportunity, and if we run DNA on that pen, we're going to know you were there."

"No you won't, because I wasn't. And what the hell am I supposed to have done anyway?" Elliot demanded yet again.

Olivia paced the squad room, hoping the motion would help her think. Once she had gotten over her initial shock and sense of betrayal, she could see how someone looking at the situation objectively might think Elliot was responsible, but she _knew_ Elliot, better than anyone, better than Cragen, better than Fin, maybe even better than his wife. He would _never_ do such a thing.

She needed help. Her partner was out of commission, Cragen seemed to have already made up his mind and was too angry to listen to reason right now, and she wanted Fin in the observation room in case things degenerated into violence again. Lake was no where to be seen.

"Figures," she muttered.

She moved over to her desk, picked up the phone and poked the speed dial. Two rings later, the other party picked up, and she said, "Munch, we have a problem down at the station. Lake is MIA, and I need your help."

She hung up, relieved that John was on the way, and moved over to Lake's desk to leave him a note. She had to go back to her own desk to find a pen that wasn't mutilated and had to smile slightly when she realized that she didn't mind using Elliot's chewed up pens.

She was just placing the sticky in the middle of Lake's blotter when she saw it.

For a moment she froze. It wasn't enough to clear her partner, but it was all the evidence she needed to create reasonable doubt. She pulled out one of the small evidence bags she always carried out of her pocket and used her pen to tap her discovery into the bag. She sealed and labeled it, and as she stood there deciding what to do next, she glanced into Lake's trash can and found the jackpot. Incontrovertible proof of who was the real perp in this case.

She looked up, and saw Lake returning from the men's room.

"You," she gasped.

Chester didn't like this squad. These people didn't like him. Fin ignored him, Munch never missed an opportunity to call him an IAB spy, and Benson and Stabler constantly flirted with each other around him as if to remind him that there was no way he would ever be as buff as Elliot or have a woman as hot a Olivia.

When he saw Benson standing beside his desk, evidence bag in hand, he knew he was busted, and the look she was giving him said she was out for blood.

Olivia knew the moment Lake decided to run. She could see it in his eyes. "Stop!" she yelled, and took off after him.

Through the hall they sprinted, Olivia weaving in and out around the people Lake pulled into her way. She didn't even think of asking someone to stop him for her. She was determined to be the one to nail his ass. Around the corner he ran, with her just a few steps behind. When she saw the elevator doors slide open she knew she had to get him _now_.

She took him down with a flying tackle, and they landed half in, half out of the elevator, the doors bouncing against their legs as they tried to slide shut. Olivia pressed a struggling Lake's face into the floor, shoved her knee into the middle of his back, and yelled, "It's over Lake! Hold still!"

Munch, the elevator's sole passenger, smirked down at them and said, "I gather you don't need my help any more?"

Olivia grinned up at him as she clasped the cuffs around Lake's wrists. "No, but thanks for coming."


	4. Exoneration

**Disclaimer:** They're obviously not mine. Dick Wolf would never force them to do something this embarrassing. It was lots of fun to write, hope you had fun reading it. Please review, and check out the note at the end.

**Kidney**

_Chapter Four_

_Exoneration_

SVU Squad Room

January 17, 2:27 P.M.

"Got the creep, Captain!" Olivia said triumphantly as she swung the door open and Munch pushed Lake into the interrogation room. She looked at her partner and read the message in his eyes. _You sure?_

She winked. _Oh, yeah._

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, sighed in relief, and let himself go limp in relaxation. _Thank God. _Then he looked up at her and smiled weakly. _And thank __**you**__, Liv._

She gave him a big grin. _Glad to do it, El._

Seeing the rest of the squad now crowded into the interrogation room, Fin came in to join them. Nodding at Munch he said, "Good to see you could bring your bony ass down here to help us at a time like this."

Munch smirked back. "I came as soon as I was called, not that I was needed. Olivia had solved the case by the time I got here."

"That's our girl," Fin said proudly.

"Here's the evidence," she said as if Fin's praise had been her cue to speak, and she held her little bag up to the light for all to see.

Curious, Elliot stood for a closer look. Inside the bag was a small, brownish-red object, about three-quarters of an inch long. Not sure what it was, he stood behind his partner and reached around to grab her wrist and gently turned her hand so he could see better.

"A . . . a bean? I . . . what?" he stammered, even more confused than he had been when the captain shoved him into the interrogation room almost an hour ago.

"Not just any bean," Liv pointed out, "a _kidney_ bean."

"So?" Elliot's tone implied that the additional information didn't make things any clearer.

"But the pen . . ." Cragen objected before Olivia could explain to Elliot.

"What pen?" Olivia asked anxiously. There was no way she was going to let any question of her partner's innocence remain. He valued Cragen's trust and respect too much to leave any lingering doubts, so she had to refute whatever the captain had found.

Cragen gestured to evidence bag on the table.

She moved out of the warm curve of Elliot's body to exchange her baggie for the one on the table. She made a face and said, "Captain, if I had seen this when I was in here before, I could have solved this case for you then. Let me show you."

Tossing the evidence on the table, she pulled a pen out of her pocket and shoved it in her mouth. Lisping around the ballpoint, she demonstrated for them.

"When Elliot ith finithed chewing on a pen, he take thit out of hith mouth . . ."

Her speech became clearer without the obstruction.

". . . dries it on his pants . . ."

She wiped the saliva on her trousers.

". . . and puts it in the pencil cup Dickie made for him in the second grade."

She plunked it into Elliot's empty foam cup for demonstration purposes. The cup fell over because the pen made it top heavy, but she had still proved her point.

"There is no way in hell that slimy, wet, disgusting pen is Elliot's," she said. "He's too courteous to leave something like that just laying around."

The men all looked at her in admiration, except for Lake who was scowling. One by one they started nodding.

"Son of a bitch tried to set me up," Elliot said, almost in admiration at the man's pure balls.

John moved Chester further into the room toward the suspect's chair.

"Hey, hey, that doesn't prove I did anything," Chester objected when he saw that the group opinion was going against him. "All that proves is that I was in the break room, and that bean? That . . .that could have been planted! You don't have any proof that I did anything."

"Shut up, you little ratfink," Fin snapped, and kicked the suspect's chair away just as Munch was guiding Lake into it causing him to fall hard on his rear end and go sprawling on his back on the floor.

Nobody moved to help him up.

"Bowl and spoon in your trash can says you did it," Liv gloated. Looking at her boss, she said, "Elliot's not your man, Captain."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, waaaaaait," Elliot said. "Bowl and spoon?" He turned to the captain and said, "Don, you never did tell me. What did you think I had done?"

Lake got to his knees with a groan, but a glare from Fin silenced him.

Embarrassed, the captain lowered his eyes and muttered so Elliot had to lean in to hear. "I was heating up a bowl of chili for my lunch," he explained, "and while it was in the microwave, I went back to my office and asked Fin if he wanted to join me, so he could brief me on the results of your stakeout while we ate and then catch some shut-eye for an hour and call that a late lunch break. When we went back to the break room my chili was gone."

"Chili?" Elliot said, his voice rising in tone on the single word. Olivia swore she could see steam rising off his head.

"Chili?" It was an octave higher this time and his fists were clenching and unclenching in an effort not to slug his boss.

"You put me through an interrogation over a freaking bowl of _chili_?" he shouted, moving forward a step as Cragen backed up two. Olivia's gentle hand on his arm restrained him from pursuing the man, but it didn't prevent him from shouting.

"Damn it, Captain, I thought I was going to be _arrested_ for something!" Elliot yelled indignantly.

"And who the hell puts kidney beans in chili anyway? Anybody with any sense knows you use pintos!" He seemed to be even more indignant about the beans that he was about the interrogation.

"I _know_!" Cragen wailed in an agonized voice. "I'm sorry I overreacted. And I'm sorry about the kidney beans, ok?"

He was suddenly close to tears now, and the detectives all knew this was about more than his lunch going missing. He had to take a deep breath before he could continue.

"It was my dead wife's recipe," he explained, "and it's the only thing I have to remember her by that doesn't make me want to drink."

"And I thought the memory of my four ex-wives was depressing," Munch interjected with a smirk, trying, and failing, to lighten the mood.

"Shut up before I put a cap in your bony Jew ass," Fin said. "Can't you see the man is in pain?"

"Sorry," Munch said. "Reflexive sarcasm."

As it turned out, Munch's joke wasn't needed. Elliot's expression quickly softened from outrage to compassion. He knew the tragic story of how the captain's beautiful wife, a flight attendant, had died in a plane crash. He had only been separated from Kathy for a couple of years, but he could imagine what it would be like to lose her to death and have to go on living with the knowledge that he would never see her again.

For as much as he loved his partner and as often as he caught himself lusting after her when she didn't know he was watching, family was everything to Elliot. He loved Kathy, and they had been through more than twenty years of ups and downs together. They were having another baby together. Don didn't even have children to help him cope with the loss that Elliot was sure he still felt as keenly as if she had died yesterday.

"It's all right, Cap," Elliot said gently and moved to place a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder. "When Kathy and I were separated, I used to pester the girls to make her meatloaf for me every time they came to visit. Old-fashioned, home-cooking, comfort food brings back fond memories. I understand."

Don shook his head, sniffed, and laughed. "No, it's not like that, not at all. She was a lousy cook."

"Tell me about it," Lake said as he gained his footing. "Five minutes after I finished it, I had to puke."

A glare from the group silenced him. He shrugged and eased himself down toward the chair again. This time, at the last moment, Fin raised his foot to Chester's hip and pushed him sideways, making him fall to the floor again.

"Never speak ill of the dead," he taunted. "Or their cooking."

Ignoring Lake where he was wallowing on the floor, Don told the others, "He's closer to the truth than you might think. See a glass of whisky isn't so bad going down, but coming back up with a belly full of spicy beef and beans?"

He shook his head. "It's as close to hell as I ever want to get."

Each of the detectives made a disgusted face, and Olivia gasped, "Ewwwww."

"Sorry," Don apologized to all of them. Then he looked directly at Elliot. "I really am sorry, Elliot. How can I make it up to you?"

Elliot looked at Lake, who was finally sitting rather awkwardly in his chair because his butt hurt. He drove his right fist into his left palm with a smack, shifted his gaze to the captain, and grinned.

Getting his meaning immediately, Don nodded and smiled. "Well, he did try to frame you," he said. "I suppose you could use some time to, uh, talk through your differences."

"Yeah," Olivia agreed as she moved behind Lake to take his cuffs off, knowing Elliot would never strike a man in restraints, "if he's going to stay in the squad, you two really ought to work things out now."

As Chester rubbed his sore wrists, Munch smirked and said, "Don't worry. He does this all the time."

"And Elliot," Fin said as he was backing out of the door, "don't worry about the DD5s on the stakeout. I'll take care of them. You two just take as much time as you need to resolve everything."

"Thanks, man," Elliot said sincerely.

As the others filed out, Elliot advanced on Lake. Then he paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Cap?"

Don was the last one to leave, and he hadn't quite closed the door yet. "What?"

"When you first started to question me, you said I took '_her_,'" Elliot said. "Why'd you call your wife's chili '_her_'?"

Don shrugged. "I didn't even realize I'd done that until now," he said. "I guess I was just that upset about not being able to spend that time with her in my memory today."

Elliot nodded. He knew exactly what the captain meant. While he and Kathy were separated, he spent a lot of time remembering the good times, fixing the garbage disposal, sharing a shower, sipping wine on the couch, getting the kids dressed for a family night out, the twins' birthday, making love. It was bad enough having the reality ripped away, but when all he wanted to do was remember the past and his present interfered with that, it nearly drove him mad.

The two men exchanged a nod, and Cragen shut the door. Elliot turned with a grin and said, "Chester! Dude! We need to talk!"

"Hey, Elliot," Fin interrupted about ten minutes later. "You almost done?"

Elliot looked over at Lake who was on the floor by the radiator, spitting out his second tooth, and he grinned. "Yeah, I think we've reached an understanding, haven't we, Chet?"

Lake nodded and made an affirmative sounding moan. Fin grinned back at Elliot and said, "Then you should probably go get cleaned up. Your mother-in-law just called."

"What is it? Is it Kathy? Is the baby ok? My kids?"

The panicked look on his friend's face made Fin immediately regret how he had started this conversation.

"Hey, chill," he said soothingly. "Your family's fine. She just heard voices in the garden, and when she went to check them out she found Lizzie and IQ hiding out in the tree house. A Queens patrol car is bringing them here now. IQ is just fine."

Elliot grinned. "You know, today started out pretty rotten, but it's just getting better and better."

Fin glanced past Elliot to look at Chester who was easing himself into the chair and asked softly, "Is he all right?"

Elliot looked over his shoulder and asked, "Who, Chester? Yeah, he's fine. He just slipped. Ain't that right, Chester?"

"Uuuhhn? Yeah. Slipped."

Fin chuckled. "I guess he learned his lesson, didn't he?"

Elliot shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't really care. I was just past due for beating up a perp."

It was after six when Elliot finally returned to the squad room to collect his things and head home. He'd been on the clock for twenty-two hours now, and he was exhausted. After calming IQ down and convincing her that arraignment was just the first step in putting her father and brother in jail, he'd had to convince her again that she was doing the right thing.

He had sighed sadly and shook his head. He could remember the beatings his father had given him. Even in fifth grade, he knew it was wrong for an adult to hurt a child like that, but he desperately needed to believe his father loved him. So he never told anyone; he just convinced himself that he was a bad kid, and weak, and a failure, and that he deserved it because if he deserved it, it was loving correction, and there was no need to report it. Sometimes he wished he'd had the balls to turn his dad in. Most times, he wished he had the guts to tell the kids he worked with that he really did know what they were going through, but he never did. He'd only recently admitted to himself how much the abuse had hurt him emotionally. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to tell anyone else.

Then IQ had insisted on him going with her to the emergency foster shelter. At her request, he had made a difficult decision to let Elizabeth come along to see what the shelter was like. Her sister Maureen had witnessed a flaming corpse when she wasn't much older, so he figured Lizzie was old enough to see what the state provided for kids with no adult who gave a damn about them. He hoped it would make her a more compassionate person, not that she wasn't his sweet little angel already.

After Lizzie and IQ had a quick tour of the facility, he had sent his daughter home with the social worker who was heading back to Queens to get some of IQ's things before she started working on finding the girl a foster family. He hung around to help IQ make her bed in the bunk room, and when one of the staff invited her to have a snack, he joined her for some pizza rolls and juice.

"So, this is where I wind up," she muttered, "a warehouse for kids."

Elliot shrugged. "If that's the way you choose to see it, that's the way it will be to you," he said. "Or you can choose to look at it as a chance to get back some of the childhood that your brother and dad took away from you. And they will be trying to find you a foster family."

IQ just snorted. "I don't understand why, now that she knows what was going on, my mom doesn't just leave," she said, tearing up a little. "I mean, she's never hurt me, and she's supposed to love me. If she would just leave them, I could stay with her, so why does she stay?"

"I used to ask myself the same thing," Elliot mumbled, not aware at first that he had said anything out loud. Then he realized that IQ had stopped talking and knew the voice had been his own.

When he looked up, IQ gasped to see the fear and shame etched on Lizzie's dad's face. To hear Lizzie talk, the man wasn't afraid of anything, but right now, he was absolutely terrified that she would tell his secret. She knew the feeling.

"Your dad?"

Elliot looked down and brushed some imaginary crumbs off his tie. "Hit me," he said curtly. "A lot."

"And you stayed."

He nodded. "Until I joined the Marines right out of high school," he admitted.

"And you never told anyone."

Elliot just shrugged. He wasn't going to tell this child he'd been seeing a shrink, and if you didn't count Rebecca Hendrix, then no, he'd never told anyone.

IQ reached across the table and placed a hand on his arm. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "I'll keep it to myself, but you know, once you talk about it to one person, telling others isn't so scary. The people who love you would want to know." It wasn't long before IQ's social worker got back and Elliot had left, but the girls words kept rattling around in his mind. In the precinct parking lot, he got out his cell phone and called home.

"Hi, Kathy? . . . Yeah, I'm back at the station. I just have to clean off my desk and then I'll be home . . . Within the hour . . . Actually I thought I'd just grab something at McDonald's on the way if you don't mind . . . Because I need to talk to you about something . . . It's personal, Kath, I'd rather wait until I get home so we can talk face to face . . . No! It has nothing to do with Olivia . . . Sweetheart, you're having my baby again, you know there's nothing I find sexier . . . Ok, see you in about an hour, and Kath . . . I love you."

Now, he was approaching his desk, intending to straighten things up a little bit, just so he could feel more organized in the morning, when he spotted a small evidence baggie with a little red post it note stuck to it. In the bag was the kidney bean Liv had found on Chester's desk. The note, in Olivia's neat handwriting, said:

_Told you I'd give you a kidney first!_

Elliot just laughed, decided the mess could wait until morning, and walked out.

**Author's Notes:** I hate author's notes, but I still always read them, and I find I am writing them more and more.

First, for those of you not living in North America who haven't seen season eight yet, the whole joke relies on a couple of lines from the episode "Choreographed." After a case involving a pair of suspects, one of whom needs an organ transplant and the other who is a suitable donor, Elliot and Olivia get into an elevator and Elliot tells Olivia, "I'd give you a kidney." Olivia smirks and says, "Not if I gave you mine first."

I was editing chapter two when I realized there were two big problems in chapter one, holes big enough to drive a squad car through, actually, but chapter one was already posted so I couldn't go back and fix them. I hope the writing was good enough that they weren't really obvious.

Second, I have noticed a couple of people doing 'contests' with readers for reviews. I figure if you love it or hate it you will review, so we won't be doing that, but the first person to PM me with either of the plot holes will get to "be" one of the original characters in a new story I am working on. You get to choose the name, develop the personality, provide the physical description, and supply the character's quirks, habits, and pet peeves. It can be you, one of your best friends, a celebrity look-alike, whatever you want. It is a real story, not a parody. Sorry, I know there are two holes, but there is only one winner. Most of the other characters are already formed in my imagination.

Third, hope I didn't disappoint too many of you. The genre _was _listed as Mystery/Parody, and I tried my best to go as over the top as I could without breaking character completely. I worked in as many gimmicks from the show as I could (all the touch-feely EO moments that came to nothing just to torture the EO shippers; Elliot's gorgeous blue and Olivia's big, chocolate brown eyes; Elliot's issues with his dad making him freak out when Cragen got in his face; that 'face' Olivia makes when she is on the verge of crying; Olivia acting out the crime; El and Liv communicating with just a look; Munch's sarcasm; and Fin's 'bony ass' comments). I just couldn't deliberately write something stupid to give it away from the start, so, to anyone who was expecting me to take the squad on a long, emotional roller coaster ride, I apologize. And cheer up. I've got more than one of those in the works. You'll see them as soon as they're finished.

So, if you can tell me you didn't totally hate the ending, I would really appreciate it. If you felt horribly betrayed, well, I am not going to apologize because if you read the whole summary, you were warned.


End file.
